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The trees lumbered across the field.
It was a weird thing to watch. When a tree settled to rest or sniff at an interesting crocus, she could almost believe that it had been rooted to the spot for years; then the huge body would raise up on spidery roots and trundle forward with stupid placidity to follow the herd. When they all had settled to rest in the morning light, it was like the field had been turned into a misty woodland in seconds.
A sapling bounded up to her and sniffed at her wrist before bounding off again, spindly roots kicking with delight.
"It's pretty simple work," said the farmer. "We let them out to get some fresh air and sunlight, check them for blight. Every so often we have to lay out some manure, but that's pretty much it."
She watched the sapling. It stumbled on its own limbs and limped into the shade of its mother.
"It's pretty similar to raising cattle," said the farmer. "We raise them up for a couple years, and when they get big enough we take them down to the slaughterhouse and have them butchered."
"Wouldn't you send them to a logging mill or something?"
"Nope."
A chickadee whirred through the air and lighted onto a branch.
"There's good money in it, too," said the farmer. "There's a lot of demand for certain cuts of tree meat."
"You mean wood?"
"Nope."
There was a blur of branches. The tree ate the chickadee.
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StarClan's tool
ID: a digital drawing that features Leafpool (Warrior Cats). She's seen from the above, her face is covered in leaves put in by StarClan cats' paws. Her eyes aren't visible, but her muzzle and ears are. At her paws, there are blue, starry pawprints of StarClan paws, simbolizing a path already traced by these cats. The path ends in a holly leaf, a sycamore maple leaf, already turned yellow, and a jay's feather, simbolising the kits she was bound to give birth to. End ID.
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